Arthur of Albion
by Jabberwockyjinxes
Summary: When Arthur was a child, he was sent away to live with Sir Ector far north of Camelot. When Merlin was born, he was taken by the druids and raised as their own. Their lives overlap for the first time after a devastating raid on the druid camp, but they quickly figure out that their lives were destined to be intertwined since the beginning of time.


Summary: When Arthur was a child, he was sent away to live with Sir Ector and Sir Kay far north of Camelot. When Merlin was born, he was taken by the druids and raised as their own. Their lives overlap for the first time after a devastating raid on the druid camp, but they quickly figure out that their lives were destined to be intertwined since the beginning of time.

Thanks to Cordelia Rose for her fantastic job beta'ing this story!

OOO

Once upon a time, a little boy was born to a loving mother in a small town in a far, far away land. The villagers were peaceful, common folk and the boy was loved. But they soon found out that the little boy was different from the rest. You see, he had magic.

The first time he used magic, he was less than a day old. His mother watched in awe as he floated a little star-painted rattle across the room.

 _Schtick. Schtick. Schtick._

Soon after his birth, his mother fell into a deep, brooding depression and the boy was taken from her by well-meaning strangers. They called themselves druids and promised her that her little boy would never want for anything.

They christened him _Merlin,_ after the free-flying hawk, their patron. They had knowledge of events yet to come and they knew that someday Merlin would take up the mantle of Emrys, but for now, they let him be an ordinary child. And so they travelled the warm plains of the Byzantine empire, explored the nooks and crannies of Krakow, and made it as far as chilly Novgorod. They faced many enemies, but it was a happy enough existence.

In a bustling port town in Seville, Merlin met a little orphan boy named William. By the time Merlin had to go, they were fast friends and refused to be parted.

On their way up to Normandy, they received word that a slow conversion to Christianity had begun and that those who followed the Old Religion were being forced to convert and branded or even burned to death if they refused. The entire group was changed by the few months they passed there, and Merlin counted himself lucky to come away with only a mark etched into his hand (promptly scarred over; it wouldn't do for someone in Camelot to recognize him as a druid) and a tangle of scar tissue on his back.

As the slow crumble of Roman civilization continued, they finally started making their way up north towards Camelot, Merlin's destiny.

OOO

"Run!" Naira yelled. Merlin hesitated, grabbing Will's hands. There was fire everywhere raining down from flaming arrows. Everywhere he looked was red, flickering red against the starry sky.

Merlin looked around, panicked. If he could just locate the source of the arrows he could stop them, but the attackers had slipped into the camp as they slept. His breath came faster.

Sending out a pulse of magic, he located the attackers- three bowmen perched on the ledge of rock they had tried to shelter under. He saw an arrow peek out from atop the cliff. With a flick of his fingers, he sent a wave of sheer, devastating force towards the archer, blowing him backwards with a resounding _crack._

" _Heremeagen!"_

Still holding onto Will's wrist, he looked around the camp. Knights of Camelot were everywhere, holding their heads high while they killed Merlin's family.

 _There was too many. They were going to die-_

With a ragged war cry, Will threw himself into the battle. Merlin tugged him back.

"You can't!"

"I have to!" He said. He pulled back. "I'm not _that_ important. You are. You need to put aside your grief and get to Camelot!"

Then he pulled himself away and Merlin was left staring after him as he disappeared into the fire.

Merlin ignored his advice.

One man fell with a well directed spell. A wave of his hand and another three lay on the ground with glassy eyes. A haze of bloodlust made his sight go red and it wasn't until he caught sight of Will he realized that the red wasn't in his head; it was blood running down the camp in wandering little rivers.

He saw Will fall with a faint cry, but his head was like molasses. He saw the blood blossom from underneath Will's shirt, but he didn't notice that either. All he felt was fear like he had never felt before as the man standing above his friend raised his sword for a final blow.

Merlin twitched a finger. The man crumpled to the ground, dead. He turned and felt a steel blade swishing past his shoulder, catching on his shirt but not drawing blood. The knight, only a few years older than Merlin himself, stared back at him, pulling his sword back. There was an expression of tightly controlled horror on his handsome face.

"What are you waiting for?" The knight demanded, jerking his sword threateningly. " _Run!_ "

Merlin stared at him for less than a second longer, then took off. He cleared a path towards Will, bleeding bodies littering the way. He scooped the shorter boy into his arms and left the camp, taking one last glance at the handsome knight, who had started yelling orders to stop the fighting and to _put out the fires, do you want the entire forest to burn down?_

He could faintly see Naira curled up around a knife, almost like she was sleeping except for the blood running down her face. And further in the distance, he could see a stray knight kicking the limp corpse of Isidro, who had taught Merlin how to make butterflies in the air.

Whispering healing spells under his breath, Merlin stumbled towards Camelot. There was a man there named Gaius who was sympathetic towards sorcerers and druids, he would heal Will.

(Merlin tried to ignore the blood staining his arms.)

They made it to Camelot as the sun touched the horizon. Merlin's legs wobbled with fatigue. He had stopped feeling pain several miles ago and now all he could feel was the unsteady breath of Will on his shoulder.

A guard called out to them as they approached, shouting orders and calling for aid.

"Stop! Stop right there!"

The guard probably said something else, but Merlin had already crumpled to the ground in a dead faint.

OOO

"...Alive?" someone was asking.

"He'll survive. He lost a lot of blood, but not as much as the other boy."

"I wonder-" the first said. It was a young voice, cultured, female, and obviously intelligent.

"The guard said it looked like they had been in some sort of fight."

"The raid?"

Silence. Merlin groaned, trying to roll over, only to be stopped by a piercing pain in his side. Instantly, wrinkled hands pushed him back into his original position.

"Water?" Merlin rasped. There was a rustling sound and the first voice (a coldly gorgeous woman) bustled out of the room.

The older man fixed him with a glare. "And how did you get yourself into this state, young man?"

"Raid." Merlin said foolishly, still feeling fuzzy and confused. The older man clucked.

"Your injuries are consistent with a short skirmish with some bandits. They probably snuck up on you and took your money, but they hadn't injured you as severely as they thought, so you carried your friend back here."

"No, I said it was a- _Oh_. Yes, Will and I were trying to get to Camelot. They came at us from behind."

Gaius nodded. "Your name?"

"Merlin."

"Morgana will be back in a minute with water. Your friend -Will, right?- had a large gash on his side. He'll survive, but I want him on bed rest for at least a week. You had smaller gashes all along your arms, torso, and legs. Those should be largely healed within a week."

"Thank you." Merlin rasped. He was about to ask Gaius if Will had woken up yet, but he was interrupted by the beautiful woman entering the room.

"Here's your water." She sat by his bedside and put the water in his hand. "What's your name?"

"Merlin. And you?" He spilled some water down his shirt, hands shaking for some reason. Gaius raised an eyebrow and helped him bring the water to his lips.

"Morgana. Lady Morgana."

"Lady Morgana is King Uther's ward."

" _Oh."_ Merlin exhaled. He wanted to know if this woman shared her King's prejudices.

"And what brought you to Camelot? It's not often people stagger into our gates, covered in blood, ranting about fire."

Merlin looked at her askance. He didn't remember talking at all, let alone talking about fire.

"My mother sent me and my friend Will to Camelot to look for work, but we were attacked by bandits. We didn't see them coming."

"Ah. What did they take?"

"All our money and supplies." Merlin said, feeling faintly uneasy with all the questions. He decided to keep his story as close to the truth as possible. "We were travelling with several others, but as far as I know we were the only survivors."

"I see. And where are you from? Your accent isn't familiar to me."

"I come from Ealdor. It's on the border of Esscetir."

"Near Anglia?" Merlin slowly shook his head, still feeling like he was several steps behind this woman. Gaius frowned at him disapprovingly as he tended to Will.

"On the western border, my lady."

Then Morgana asked what brought him to Camelot and Merlin froze, excuses spluttering out half-formed on top of each other.

"The harvest was poor this year-"

"Really? I thought, with the beautiful mix of sun and rain, it would have been bountiful." Morgana smiled like a cat who had just caught a prize bird.

"Not in Essetir." Gaius cut in briskly. "The mountains don't provide the same moderating effect as Camelot gets, and inland Essetir is further away from the sea."

"Ah." Morgana said, shrugging her elegant shoulders. "Well, as long as you're not some evil sorcerer hell bent on killing Uther, we'll get along just fine."

Merlin blinked.

"What?"

"I understand, Merlin. You're definitely a farm boy from Ealdor and you definitely don't have magic."

Merlin gaped. "What? How- I- I don't understand."

"Morgana, the boy needs to rest. He's had a long journey." Gaius interjected, busying himself with poking at Merlin's side, and _ouch,_ when had he injured his side? He didn't remember that at all.

"Of course, Gaius. I'll be on my way."

Morgana turned to him from where she sat at his bedside and lowered her lips to Merlin's cheek.

"Welcome to Camelot, Emrys." she whispered, quiet so even Gaius couldn't hear. And then she kissed him on the cheek, and a moment later she was gone.

OOO

A day later, Merlin was back up on his feet again. Will hadn't yet woken, but Merlin had spent an enjoyable day wandering the streets of Camelot. He had run into Morgana again and her charmingly clumsy-tongued servant Gwen. They had passed several hours in the marketplace together. Merlin had seen luxuries that surpassed it before, but he had never actually tried the sweet apples or touched silken fabric.

Morgana and Gwen brought him from shop to shop. He delighted over everything.

At a stand selling warm woolen blankets for the winter, a little girl peeked out from behind her mother's skirts. She peered up at Merlin's hand, the one he had burned with acid all those years ago to obscure the tattoo from Normandy.

"Mum, why does that man's hand look weird?" She asked. Merlin retracted his hand from the rough fabric like he had touched hot coals.

The shopkeeper glanced uncomfortably at Merlin, pushing her child to the side. "Amelie, remember, you should be seen and not heard."

"It's fine." Merlin surprised himself by saying. "I worked for a healer for awhile. It was just a potion went wrong." It was true, strictly speaking.

They moved away and Morgana quickly broached the topic again. "Is that true?" She demanded.

Gwen rested a hand on Morgana's arm and spoke in a low voice. "He probably doesn't want to talk about it. The scarring looks painful."

Merlin glanced between the two, unsure of how much Gwen knew. Morgana already knew an unreasonable amount about him. He considered his options: If he admitted to being a druid in front of Gwen, how would she react? Eventually he decided to stick to the truth as closely as possible.

"I got a tattoo I badly regretted later. I was irresponsible."

That was all he would say on the subject. He quickly changed the topic to better days; the feast to be held later that night. Gwen invited Merlin to stand at the feast with her and listen to the Lady Helen sing. Rumour had it she could sing so beautifully it once broke the heart of a fearsome Saxon king.

They parted ways after several hours, leaving Merlin with far too much silence and far too much time to think. He returned to Gaius and they spoke of healing herbs and city life and many other things, but nothing about magic, nothing he truly wished to know.

Half an hour before sunset, Merlin and Gaius set out to the castle.

At the feast, he began to feel that something was off. He quietly turned to consult Gaius, but the old man was asleep on his feet, barely hanging on to consciousness. He slumped. Merlin lowered him hastily to the floor.

As he lay Gaius down, Merlin could hear the steady thump of other heavy bodies slumping and hitting the floor. He jerked to his feet just in time to see Lady Helen begin to weave a spell, preparing to send powerful magic towards the high table.

Merlin sent a wave of magic towards the chandelier sending it crashing to the ground. It hit Lady Helen's back and she fell with a pained groan. But she wasn't done. She pulled out a long, sharp knife from the folds of her dress and threw it.

Merlin didn't think. Time slowed down to a crawl and he dashed towards the target.

Just as his hands touched the prince of Camelot, Merlin recognized him.

 _The handsome knight, the one who told me to run!_

He could see the realization in Arthur's eyes as he recognized Merlin. They fell to the floor together, knife whizzing over his head by mere millimetres.

Time sped back up. The blood rushed in Merlin's ears.

Arthur rolled over to stand up, then caught a glimpse of the back of Merlin's neck. His druidic tattoo stood out clearly against his neck, unprotected by his neckerchief, which had come loose during the rush.

Merlin stared back at him, mouth dry.

Arthur grabbed the back of his neck, dragging him to his feet. His face transformed to rage and Merlin cringed, planning to make a run for it as soon as he could.

He caught Arthur's eye and the prince nodded minutely at him. _Stay where you are._

"Of all the stupid, irresponsible things." Arthur raged. "To run in front of a flying dagger? Are you suicidal, boy, or are you just stupid?"

Merlin squeaked.

Uther raised a placating hand. "Calm now, Arthur. The boy may have saved your life."

Arthur turned to Merlin, keeping a firm grip on the back of his neck. "What's your name, boy?"

"Merlin!"

"And what are you doing here? You don't work in the castle."

"I'm staying with Gaius." He said, twisting in Arthur's iron grip.

Uther looked at Gaius, who nodded in confirmation. "Arthur, the boy has done nothing wrong. In fact, I'm inclined to reward such great bravery."

Arthur snorted.

"Merlin son of…" Uther trailed off for a second, unsure of Merlin's father's name.

"Hunith." Merlin helpfully supplied. Uther quirked an eyebrow.

"Merlin, son of Hunith, for your bravery and loyalty towards my son, I hereby instate you as personal manservant to the prince of Camelot."

Merlin took one look at Arthur's face and thought _shite._

"Very well." Arthur ground out. Still holding onto the back of his neck, Arthur began to steer him out if the dining hall. "In that case, I will retire right away. I no longer wish to celebrate."

Uther scowled after his son, but made no move to stop him.

Once they were alone in the dark hallways, Arthur relaxed his grip on Merlin's neck slightly, but didn't let go.

"Come with me." He said tensely. Merlin followed, not speaking.

They turned into a room after a few more minutes, Arthur dismissing the guards. Once they were inside alone, Arthur sank into a chair, letting out a sigh of relief.

Merlin stood, unsure.

"Let me check your neck. I hung on pretty hard in there."

Merlin's limbs felt leaden and weary. "I don't understand why you did that."

Arthur stood and began prodding at his neck, ignoring Merlin's unspoken question. He made a surprised sound and pushed Merlin into the chair, moving swiftly over to a cupboard and pulling out a clean white bandage.

"You didn't tell me you'd been hit." He accused. Merlin reached a lethargic hand to his head. It came away bloody.

"Oh." He said. "I didn't notice."

"It's not so bad." Arthur said. "Head wounds bleed badly but the knife only just skimmed you. Luckily."

There was a long silence before Merlin spoke.

"Thank you. For before."

He didn't refer to which 'before' he was speaking of. Arthur had spared his life twice now.

"I have enough death on my conscience." He turned so Merlin could look him in the eye. "Why did you come to Camelot? Your accent speaks of time on the mainland and you're a druid. Why come here?"

Merlin raised his scarred hand so Arthur could see it. "Albion isn't the only place where the tides speak of war. We were driven out of the Byzantine Empire, cut overseas to Sicily, then through the Roman Empire to southern Iberia. Then we started back to Normandy, but we were - we were driven out."

"Why leave Iberia if it was safe?"

"It wasn't." Merlin said. He would say no more on that topic. Arthur seemed to sense that because he changed the topic.

"You're shaking. Are you cold?"

"I'm fine." Merlin said, feeling distinctly not fine.

Arthur didn't seem to hear him, off in his own world. "We'll need to do something about your accent. And get you a neckerchief to cover that bloody tattoo."

Merlin dozed on the chair while Arthur paced back and forth across the room, feet wearing down the cold stone. Merlin had been there several hours and Arthur had fallen into a brooding silence before he snapped out of it. He woke Merlin and pulled him to his feet, a reassuring hand on the small of his back as he guided him towards Gaius's chambers.

Arthur left him just outside the chambers.

"Good night, Merlin." He said. "I expect you with me first thing tomorrow morning."

He slipped away, leaving Merlin gazing helplessly after him.

He had heard about the Prince before. People spoke of his wisdom and bravery in battle and the way the sun caught in his hair on nice days.

Merlin didn't know exactly what he felt for the brilliant, surprisingly _kind_ prince. But he knew already that he owed the prince his life and his loyalty.


End file.
